fully in all things, but see that he
holds communication with no one."

Varney bowed, and the astrologer kissed the Earl's hand in token of
adieu, and followed the master of the horse to another apartment, in
which were placed wine and refreshments for his use.

The astrologer sat down to his repast, while Varney shut two doors with
great precaution, examined the tapestry, lest any listener lurked behind
it, and then sitting down opposite to the sage, began to question him.

"Saw you my signal from the court beneath?"

"I did," said Alasco, for by such name he was at present called, "and
shaped the horoscope accordingly."

"And it passed upon the patron without challenge?" continued Varney.

"Not without challenge," replied the old man, "but it did pass; and I
added, as before agreed, danger from a discovered secret, and a western
youth."

"My lord's fear will stand sponsor to the one, and his conscience to the
other, of these prognostications," replied Varney. "Sure never man chose
to run such a race as his, yet continued to retain those silly scruples!
I am fain to cheat him to his own profit. But touching your matters,
sage interpreter of the stars, I can tell you more of your own fortune
than plan or figure can show. You must be gone from hence forthwith."

"I will not," said Alasco peevishly. "I have been too much hurried
up and down of late--immured for day and night in a desolate
turret-chamber. I must enjoy my liberty, and pursue my studies, which
are of more import than the fate of fifty statesmen and favourites that
rise and burst like bubbles in the atmosphere of a court."

"At your pleasure," said Varney, with a sneer that habit had rendered
familiar to his features, and which forms the principal characteristic
which painters have assigned to that of Satan--"at your pleasure," he
said; "you may enjoy your liberty and your studies until the daggers
of Sussex's followers are clashing within your doublet and against your
ribs." The old man turned pale, and Varney proceeded. "Wot you not he
hath offered a reward for the arch-quack and poison-vender, Demetrius,
who sold certain precious spices to his lordship's cook? What! turn you
pale, old friend? Does Hali already see an infortune in the House of
Life? Why, hark thee, we will have thee down to an old house of mine
in the country, where thou shalt live with a hobnailed slave, whom thy
alchemy may convert into ducats, for to such conversion alone is thy